


only for you

by kittensonskateboards



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Had this prompt on my mind and I thought why not, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Titles, My First Work in This Fandom, My first post ever omg, Reader is an Author, captain cold is a big softie, he might be a bit ooc but who cares honestly, i mean at least i think so?, like really cool, pretty much fluff, reader is cool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:07:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23142163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittensonskateboards/pseuds/kittensonskateboards
Summary: "well, this isn’t exactly how i imagined our first date would be.""you think about us going on dates?”“yeah, in my nightmares.”"you dream of me? that’s cute."
Relationships: Leonard Snart/Reader, Leonard Snart/You
Comments: 20
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay holy sht this is my first story to ever publish and it feels so strange? like hello world i'm finally here! anyways i hope you enjoy this story, there might be mistakes and characters might be ooc but hey, it's fanfiction!

You'd met Captain Cold before, obviously. When you’re a part of Team Flash, crashing into super-villains now and then is inevitable. But, working _together_ with them? That was still new to you. Even as you stood there, between Caitlin and Cisco, two of your closest friends, you still felt a chill run down your spine as you saw him waltz up to your group, cold gun in hand, goggles on.

“Snart,” Barry spoke. He stood in front of you, dressed in his usual suit, mask off. It wasn’t necessary, Snart already knew who he was. And, the mask wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to wear. You knew that from experience. Once, when you’d all been out drinking together, Cisco had made you try on Barry’s suit as a dare. You still couldn’t understand how he got it on so quickly, even with his superspeed. The material might be stretchy, but it _definitely_ wasn’t easy to put on. You had to say you preferred your own suit. It was similar to his, except black and in another material – since it didn’t have to be able to withstand that much speed.

Snart stopped in front of Barry, his eyes wandering over the group of people. As his eyes graced your face, you felt… something. You’d met him enough times, both in and out of uniform, to not be directly afraid of him. He might be a villain, but without that gun you’d take him out any day. Gladly.

“Barry. Team Flash, always a pleasure,” he spoke. Hi voice was low, but you could still hear the amused tone in it. “Shall we get this over with, then?”

Barry nodded. “Let’s go over the plan. Cisco?”

Said man hurried over towards his desk, clicking frantically on his keyboard. “So, I was thinking…”

A few hours later, you were lying on the ground, hiding from the villain you were currently trying to catch. It was a meta-human that had been causing trouble in the city, as per usual. Though, this was a particularly tricky one, which is why you needed Snart and his gun. Barry and you simply weren’t enough this time, no matter how much it hurt to admit.

So, here you were; pressed to the cold asphalt, hiding under a crashed, rusty, vehicle in a random alleyway. Normally, you weren’t one to hide. But now, with the bad guy trailing down the road towards you, your powers faltering, you needed to regain at least some energy. Or else you were… royally fucked, to put in nicely.

Focusing on your breathing, you felt your fingers tingle with the power surging through them. Though, that wasn’t the only thing you felt. _Pain_. Everywhere. Your leg had been twisted in a weird angle when the meta had thrown against a brick wall before you even had time to react. You blamed yourself as well, had you just noticed him before, you could’ve used your power to phase through the wall instead of having your leg wounded. Phasing, that was your ability. It was useful every now and then, but not life altering in any particular way. Except for you joining Team Flash, obviously. Being a bookshop clerk and author, saving lives hadn’t exactly been something you’d done often _before_.

A hand was placed on your arm, startling you. You almost kicked the person before you saw who it was. _Snart_. You wondered how he’d found you, seeing as the plan hadn’t exactly panned out the way it should have. The meta had grown stronger in the last few days since you last fought him, and you’d underestimated his strength.

“[name], are you alright?” There was a look in Snart’s eyes that resembled worry, but you shrugged it off. _Why would he be worried for me? That’s just silly. God, perhaps the pain is getting to my head._

You nodded. Yeah, you were alright. Apart from the drained power and injured body, you were alright.

He raised his eyebrows. “Don’t lie to me. Can you stand?”

With a sigh, you replied. “I don’t think so. I kind of crawled here.”

“Come here,” he took a hold of your arm and lifted you off the ground and onto your feet. The same look from before flashed through his eyes as you winced from the weight on your injured leg. “Let me help you.”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip as you took a few careful steps forward, arm swung over his shoulders. The alley was now empty, which you noticed. “What happened to the meta?”

Snart flashed his signature smirk towards you. “I sent him off. Couldn’t get him, but Barry is taking care of that right now. Think I weakened him a bit though.”

“That’s grea- “You cut yourself off with a pained sound as your legs caved in under you. Snart reacted quickly and helped you on your feet again.

“You okay?”

“Not really,” you admitted, “but Caitlin and Cisco will know what to do about it. I trust them.”

He only nodded and kept his eyes forward as you continued walking slowly towards the main road. You didn’t know if it was the pain getting to your head or the proximity of your faces, but you spoke up, trying to lighten the mood.

“Well, this isn’t exactly how I imagined our first date would be.” You chuckled lightly as you grimaced, pain surging through your leg.

Snart seemed surprised by your comment, but only for a second. _Can’t show surprise or weakness, can you now tough guy?_

“You think about us going on dates?” He replied, teasing tone in his voice.

“Yeah, in my nightmares.” There it was again, the flash in his eyes. Unreadable. It may even had been just a change of light, for all you knew.

He smirked again, looking at your face, eyes meeting yours. “You dream of me? That’s cute.”

Before you had the time to retort this time, he pressed the earbud he’d received from Cisco before leaving. He’d argued he didn’t need it at first, but after some persuasion by you and Barry he’d agreed to use it – only if he didn’t have to hear Cisco talk in it all the time, that had been his condition. Yet now he was using it.

“Cisco, hello. Do you hear me?” A pause. “Yes, it’s me, no need to sound so shocked.”

He rolled his eyes at the response, which you couldn’t hear. “Little miss badass over here has gotten herself injured, and I’m not leaving her in the middle of this alley. One of you better come her and pick her up. _Now_.”

* * *

Let’s just say that Cisco had probably never driven that fast in his life before. When he stopped the car – brakes screeching – Snart had helped you into it, ever so gentlemanly. Cisco had just stood there, eyes wide as he stared at the two of you.

Snart was just about to leave when you called for him. He turned back to look at you, eyebrows raised. “Be careful.”

_God, I sound pathetic._

“Only for you.”

_That might have been even more pathetic._

He then took off, leaving you and Cisco to do the same. You were lying on the backseat, feeling the motions of the car as Cisco hurried back towards Star Labs. Even as your head spun, it was mainly focused on the look Leonard had had when you’d told him to be careful. It was almost as if it had been… soft? Had someone told you a month ago, even a week ago, that Leonard Snart would look at you softly, you would’ve laughed. But now, lying there, you knew you weren’t mistaken.

“Don’t fall asleep, [name],” Cisco said to you, looking at you through the mirror. “I don’t know how badly you’re hurt yet.”

“Trying my hardest here, Cisco.” You nodded at him, which he probably didn’t see anyways.

He rolled his eyes at you, worried eyes, yet managed to send a small smile your way. “Much appreciated.”

The ride to Star Labs took much shorter than it should’ve, seeing as Cisco most likely didn’t follow the law when hurrying back there. Caitlin and Joe were there immediately as the car stopped, helping you out of it. It hurt like hell, but you knew you had to get out of there and into the lab, to the med bay. And, except for a few accidental bumps, the way up there went smoothly. They’d brought one of those stretchers down from the med bay to carry you on, which was thankful as your legs only felt worse and worse. Your ability only being phasing, and not having to do with the speed force at all - or at least that’s what you’d learned this far - healing faster wasn’t exactly something you could do. Unfortunately. You’d been envious at Barry for a while in the beginning, as he would walk out of training looking brand new when you’d look like you’d been beat up by a gang of at least four men. Though, eventually you’d grown to accept that that was just the way things were. And, Barry had learned to go a bit easier on you as well. But not _too_ easy.

Caitlin got you hooked up to an IV and examined in what felt like seconds. Then, actually _fixing_ the problem, a fracture in your left leg, multiple ones in your ribcage, countless cuts and scratches – took much longer. You were sat there all day, being taken care of. It was rather nice, seeing as the medicine they’d given you took away most of the pain, so now you were simply sat there, being looked after. Eventually, you dosed off. When you awoke, it was late evening, but almost everyone was still there. Cisco and Barry sitting by a computer, taking silently about something.

_Probably something about improving his speed_. He’d been caught up on that matter for what felt like an eternity, endlessly training and researching how he could enhance his speed to be able to better defeat the latest bad guys, future ones as well.

“You’re awake,” Caitlin said, emerging from the room next door, “that’s great. How are you feeling?”

She put down what she’d been holding on the side of your bed, which turned out to be a medical kit, and you yawned, trying to stretch your limbs without inflicting pain upon yourself. “Not terrible, I think I needed to rest for a bit.”

“Sometimes rest is the best remedy.” She quickly looked back up to you, eyes wide. “I’m not saying you should rest forever or something though, just… a suitable amount of time to get your body back to normal. Now, if you’d sit up?”

You obeyed her, wincing out of reflex as you saw the traces of today’s fight on your skin. Fortunately, your suit covered most of your body, for safety reasons, as well as comfort, so the only major cuts were on your forehead and on your wrist, where your suit had been cut.

“And how long should that be?”

“At least eight weeks,” she sighed, opening the beg with medical supplies, “now, I didn’t want to do this when you were asleep, but I need to stitch up those cuts of yours. Is that alright?”

Nodding, you scooted more towards the edge, making it easier for her to do her job. “Of course, go ahead.”

As she was finishing up the stitched on your forehead, Cisco seemed to be tired of what he and Barry were doing. You watched as he reached out for a twizzler, only to spin around once he found that there were no more left. He sighed in despair, turning towards you and Catlin.

“How’s it going?” He asked, to which you shrugged.

“As well as it can go if you’ve been thrown against a brick wall, I assume,” was your response, which earned a chuckle from Caitlin.

“You know,” she said, “we should be glad you’re not more injured than you are. That was one hell of a hit you experienced.”

Cisco squinted, lips making their way up into a slight smirk. “Speaking of _hits_ , [name]. What was that thing between you and Snart?”

To this, Barry spun around in his chair, fast as lightning. Pun intended.

“Snart?” He and Caitlin echoed.

You tried your hardest to hide the blush creeping its way onto your cheeks, up to your ears. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cisco.”

“Sure, you don’t. As if you didn’t make him go all soft before he ran off to help Barry save the day.” Said man retorted, snorting.

Barry spoke up, sounding dumbfounded. “You made Snart go _soft_? How?”

“I wouldn’t say soft. And, I don’t know. Can we _please_ change the subject?” You whined at the end, though knowing your hot face gave away how you actually felt about the situation.

“Sure,” Cisco drawled, imitating Leonard’s voice, though not exactly nailing it. At all. “ _Only for you_.”

If you weren’t beet red before, you sure were now. And it didn’t exactly get better. Cisco’s computer let out a beep, signaling someone entered the building. He spun back around, changing tabs to see who it was. At first, you were afraid it was a new meta, on his way to “destroy The Flash”, as per usual. With the way Cisco reacted, however, another feeling spread through your body.

“Speak of the devil, look who’s here,” he said, angling his screen so that you could see it as well. Walking down the corridors, towards where you were currently situated, was none other than Leonard Snart himself. You were screwed. With a silent prayer, you hoped your friends would have some common sense and _not_ tease you about it when he was present. Then, a knock was heard, and in the doorframe he stood. Dressed in his usual outfit, cold gun pressed close to his side, he made his presence known.

“Team Flash,” he said. With a quick nod from Barry, he entered. _How weird_ , Leonard Snart didn’t exactly strike you as a man who waited for permission. Especially not from your little team.

“Snart,” Barry acknowledged, “Great job today. I’m really grateful you helped me out there, I couldn’t have done it without you. Or you, [name], either, for that matter.”

Snart stood in the middle of the room, looking slightly unsure what to do. “No worries. Don’t expect me to come save your ass every time you’re in trouble though. It’s been fun, but I’m not a part of your team.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes at his words, though it was something only you could see. Finishing up the last stitch on your wrist, she put the needle on a metal tray next to the bed, and the rest of the things back into the bag. “So, you’re all finished up for today. We took care of your leg while you were asleep. Do I need to guide you through how to take care of- “?

“No, Cait, I’ve got it. Thank you, a lot, though. You truly are a life saver.” You smiled warmly at her, truly grateful. You didn’t know what you’d do without her, where you’d be without her. Or well, you knew; you’d be dead, for sure. Or at least injured for the rest of your life.

She smiled back at you, standing up from where she’d been sitting at the edge of your bed. “You’ll have to stay here for the next couple nights, unfortunately. We’ll take turns sleeping here with you, I know how intimidating it can be to be here alone at night, and we wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in your state. Right guys?”

Barry replied, still sitting on his turned around computer chair. “Absolutely. I can’t tonight, though, family night, sorry [name].”

“Actually, I’m busy tonight too, sorry. Cisco, you’re spending the night here.” Caitlin sported a sorry look on her face, knowing Cisco wasn’t a big fan of Star Labs during night-time either. He sighed and moaned about it for a second, but agreed nonetheless, for your sake, which you were grateful for. You _definitely_ didn’t like being alone on the building, and always tried to get out of there before darkness fell. So, staying there alone for a few nights wouldn’t exactly be the best experience of your life.

In the midst of your planning stood Snart. He was examining the lab’s technology – or at least so it seemed – all the while looking extremely out of place. As the plans were made – Cisco would go get some stuff from his apartment and some from yours, so that you could at least be comfortable when uncomfortable – you were left alone in the med bay. Cisco left, Caitlin and Barry were working on something by their computers. You were resting your eyes, enjoying the calmness, when you heard footsteps making their way over. By now, you knew the team well enough to tell them apart by the sound of their footsteps, so you knew this person wasn’t a member of Team Flash. That only left one person – a person who hadn’t even come up with an excuse as to why he was still there when Cisco confronted him as he left. “Maybe I just don’t have anything better to do?” He’d retorted with, though not sounding very convinced by his own words.

You heard him clear his throat, and you dragged your hand across your face, opening your eyes. “What do you want, Snart?”

“Hostile, are we now?” He put the snarky, teasing, mask on, but you simply rolled your eyes. “Is that really the way to treat the man who saved your life?”

“I’ve already said thank you… I think. Otherwise I’m saying it now. Thanks for saving my life. It was nice not to die.” You didn’t know why you were being friendly with him; you didn’t recall having been so before. You blamed it on the medication you’d been given, that must be the reason you’re not bantering with him as usual.

What confused you most about the situation wasn’t _your_ behavior, though, it was _his_. Looking at him, you found him already looking at you, without any maliciousness or hubris. “You… You don’t really have nightmares about me, do you?

At first, you didn’t comprehend what he was talking about, but as a memory of the day’s previous events flashed before your eyes, you let out a soft “oh”. Not exactly knowing what to say, you looked down at your hands, examining the bandage Caitlin had done for your stitches. “I mean… I’ve had some, yeah. So, yeah, I do, actually.”

“Oh,” he said, as well, clearly surprised with this information. “Uh, what are they about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You contemplated whether you truly ought to tell him. He was after all a dangerous criminal, and you had no idea in what way he’d put this information to use. Eventually, you decided upon telling him. Taking a shaky breath, remembering the dreams vividly, you spoke. “Well, they’re usually about you, having your hands around my neck. Pressing it, hard. I always wake up just before I die.”

He looked genuinely surprised, in a bad way, furrowing his eyebrows, shaking his head slightly. “Shit. I’m sorry. You… I’m sorry. There’s no need for you to have nightmares about me. I’d never do that – hurt you.”

As sweet as his words were, you couldn’t help but snort. Of course, you were afraid of him – or rather, what he could do – you’d seen what he’d done to Barry and others. It wasn’t like he was the most trustworthy person in all of Central city, either – he wouldn’t even be at the middle of that list. So, you spoke your thoughts. “You think I’d trust you, just because you say so? As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think I’m able to.” The last sentence was said with sarcasm dripping from your every word. You shrugged your shoulders. “And besides, it’s not like I can control my dreams, either.”

“I mean, that’s fair,” he looked as if was contemplating his words. Whether or not yours had an impact or not, you couldn’t tell – the mask was slowly making its way back. “Can’t blame you. Well, I’ll see you around. Or not.”

He left the building with a “farewell, Team Flash!”. As soon as he was out of the room, your friends came rushing over, looking both worried and curious. Barry’s eyebrows were raised to the roof. “Did you just have an actual _conversation_ with _Leonard Snart_? I didn’t know that was humanly possible.”

“I guess I did. It wasn’t the most rewarding conversation ever though.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“What did you talk about?” Caitlin’s expression was a mix between her mom one and her teasing best friend one. You couldn’t tell which one was the worst in this scenario.

You made a gesture with your hands. “Well, okay. I said this joke earlier today, when he saved me. And now he confronted me about it. Not really a big deal, just about me having nightmares about him sometimes.”

They were, obviously, supportive of you about that fact – but Caitlin just couldn’t stop herself from teasing you _just a little bit_. The comment she made – something about you and Snart and the enemies-to-friends-to-lovers trope – made you both blush and laugh, trying to reach out and hit her with your uninjured arm. She moved out of the way, though, sticking her tongue out at you in the process. God, you loved your friends, even if they could be annoying.

You were glad they didn’t know about the other dreams though. Because it was true, you couldn’t control your dreams. Especially not the ones concerning Leonard Snart. The ones where his hands were involved – wow, were they involved – but not in choking you. They didn’t need to know about them – and _he_ definitely didn’t either, or would. None of them would, or at least you hoped so.

* * *

_Why_ the fuck _is Leonard Snart standing in my doorway? And more importantly, why is he standing in my doorway at six o’clock in the morning?_

You’d been minding your own business, sleeping peacefully for once, dreaming about going to an animal shelter and petting fluffy dogs, or maybe it had been cats? You couldn’t remember the details, they were fuzzy. Then, all of the sudden, you’d been awoken by the sound of your doorbell. And there he stood, fluffy grey sweater with Christmas figures on it, black jeans – as well as cold gun, obviously – on, making him look… normal? You couldn’t quite figure out a better word. It was, after all, six in the morning.

“Do you wanna like, go for a coffee or something?” He spoke like it was a completely reasonable thing to ask. You, however, knew that it was _not_. Not given any of the circumstances.

“Are you drunk?” You wondered.

“Nope.” He simply replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Lost a bet? Possessed? Mind-controlled into doing things against your own will?”

“Nope, nah and I don’t think so.” The smirk had come out fully by now, sending swirls of emotions throughout your body. Though that might also have been the cold seeping in through the door, giving you goosebumps. Oh, that’s right, you were only in your pajamas and a hoodie you’d thrown on before answering the door. Not exactly the usual state in which he was used to see you, but then again, his state was quite unusual for you as well.

You sighed, shoving your hands into the large front pocket of your hoodie – _oh, hey, I found a hair tie in here!_ “Snart. As much as I’d may or may not like to, I can’t. I’m under house arrest?”

“House arrest?” He looked as if he didn’t believe you.

“Yes, house arrest. Apparently, there’s this huge bomb that goes off if I go any further than about where you’re standing now.” It was the truth. The latest bad guy had mistaken your house for Barry’s from seeing him go there, and boom, now you were under house arrest as the other’s dealt with the situation.

Snart didn’t seem to appreciate this though, looking confused and shocked. “What? How long have you been in there?”

You shrugged your shoulders. It didn’t exactly matter to you. You were still sore from your injuries – even though they’d almost healed completely by now. Resting at home for a few days wasn’t exactly something bad for you. I mean, sure, it _did_ make you question what you really brought to the team, since you weren’t there now, but it also let you spend some time really taking care of yourself. And cleaning. No one had told you how dirty your house could get when you were a superhero. It had taken you over a day to get just that done.

“About a week, why?” Was your response.

He exhaled, producing a sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh, clenching his fists and almost turning around on the spot. Now it was your time to be confused, he looked somewhat… angry? That was the most suitable word for it, yes. “God. That fucking Flash. Can’t even get his priorities straight. Guess I’ll have to do it for him.”

“No, Snart,” you sighed at his threat, gaining his attention again, “They’re all trying their best. Barry’s got a lot going on right now, and I’ve assured them this isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. They’re working on it though, I promise.”

“Good,” he nodded, but didn’t exactly seem satisfied with your words.

Not knowing what to do or say, you improvised. Now, you knew inviting criminals into your house isn’t perhaps the smartest thing to do, but the words just came out so easily. “So, how about that coffee though? We could always have it here, you know, if you were serious about that. People _entering_ doesn’t affect the bomb, we’ve already tried it.”

It seemed he was just as surprised by your words as you were, cocking his eyebrows, smirking. “Inviting a criminal into your house, [name]. Aren’t you a feisty one?”

“Well, if you truly wanted to come in, you would’ve been able to do so without my permission.” You stepped aside, allowing him a clear view of your home.

He looked as if he considered not entering for a split second, but then made a gesture that signaled “ah, why the fuck not,” and stepped into your hallway. As he passed you, grazing your shoulder in the doorway, he spoke in a low tone. “Except I wouldn’t. Not without your… _permission_.”

_Ah, always with the innuendos._ You thought, trying to ignore how his words made you shiver. Leading the way, you showed him to your kitchen. Your home wasn’t exactly big, but you loved it, nonetheless. It had a feeling of home that your other places had lacked, and the second you set foot in it, you knew it had to be yours. It didn’t hurt either that the rent was much cheaper than your last apartment – probably because the landlord was an old lady named Agatha who had taken a liking to you. She enjoyed complaining about her other renters, which almost always ended in praising you. She’d even taken to helping you in your bookstore – which was _oh so thankful_ now that you were busy with saving the people of Central City every now and again. You were truly grateful for her, and for your home.

Snart examined the apartment thoroughly from where he stood, nodding to himself. You were asking him about what he wanted when you noticed he wasn’t replying or listening. When you turned back to where he stood before, you noticed he’d moved. He was now standing by your small kitchen table, looking at the shelf that hung proudly over it. You walked over to him, wanting to know what he was looking at. When you realized what it was that he was so enthralled by, you got shy.

“Are these yours?” He asked, pointing at the books on the shelf, no trace of the usual sneer.

“I mean, yeah?” You said in a questioning tone. “I’ve written them so, yeah, they’re mine, I guess.”

He took one of the books down from the shelf, admiring it, turning it around, flipping it open. Its light blue cover seemed to match him. _Maybe that’s why he picked out that one?_ You found yourself smiling at the thought of him being drawn to cool, cold, things. It was an odd feeling to think such non-hostile thoughts about him. An odd, but nice, feeling.

“ _The fall of an angel_ ,” he reads the title, and your heart almost skips a beat from the warmth in his voice. Him continuing to read the titles of the other books on the shelf doesn’t exactly help with that, either. “ _Rogue’s wrath. Heaven above._ I’ve never… seen these before, not that I read that much. Are you like… a well-known author?”

“No, no- no, absolutely not. Aspiring, more like it. These books aren’t exactly masterpieces, I’m afraid. Or, I don’t know. I couldn’t afford an actual publisher, but at the time I was desperate to have them, you know… printed out into real books. I don’t know if that makes sense. So, I became self-published. Which basically means if someone wants to buy my books, they can do it online. The only copies that ‘exist’ are these ones, the ones Caitlin bought for the whole team when she first found out – she was, and I quote, ‘angry with me because I hadn’t told her how good of a writer I am’ – as well as a few editions hidden away in my store, I think.”

“That’s quite the sweet story.” He looked at you, and you were sure that were you not absolutely _freezing_ from all the cold air that had gotten in, you would’ve died of overheating right there and then. As you collected yourself, he spoke up again, a wondering tone in his voice. “Wait… your store?”

“Yeah, my bookstore. It’s not too far from Jitter – you know where Jitters is, right?” You say, raising your brows.

Snart smirked like a proud idiot. “Might have robbed it a few times.”

Rolling your eyes with a sigh, you turned around, walking over and opening a cabinet. “Well, what do you want? I’m afraid I’m running a bit short on coffee, but I’ve got plenty of tea and I’m a killer at making hot chocolate.”

“Hot chocolate, please. It better be the best I’ve ever had, now that you’re bragging about it.” You couldn’t see him, your back turned against him, but you could just hear in his voice the look he had on his face, the sly, teasing, one – though not the _mean_ one.

You hummed and go on to get the ingredients. Finding it odd that he hadn’t made any comments after a while, you turned your head just so you could see him. And, when you did, your heart almost leaped out of its chest. There he was, stone cold criminal Leonard Snart, half-sitting on your kitchen table, reading your first published book in silence. You whipped your head back, not after having a second look, and tried to focus on what you were doing. It was difficult, however, knowing he was sitting there, reading something that came straight from your heart and mind – something so purely _you_. It felt as if he was staring into your soul, even though he wasn’t even looking at you, rendering you unable to think clearly or go on with your task.

It took a few deep breaths, but you got through the process of making the drinks. It didn’t take too long – you’d had the recipe memorized for years; it had been your support-drink through many stages of your life. Perfecting the drink with mint-flavored whipped cream and sprinkles in the form of silvery stars, you turned back around, leaning against the counter. He was still sitting there, now having read several pages since you last looked at him. On his face was a concentrated, yet soft, look – one you’d never seen him sport before. “Hey, I’m done.”

He hummed, not looking up from the pages, making you roll your eyes, a smile making its way onto your face. After a second, you tried again, this time with another tactic. “Leonard, I’m done.”

At the mention of his name, his head snapped up, and when he saw you standing there, hot chocolate ready for him, he let out a small “oh”. You shake your head playfully, gesturing at the drinks. Carefully placing the book back where it had stood before, he made his way over to you. Stopping just before the counter where the mugs of cocoa stood, he was standing almost right in front of you. As he leaned in to grab one of them, you realized just how _close_ he was. With yourself looking at him, the distance as he turned his face towards you as well decreased rapidly. He paused in his tracks, hand just having grabbed the ear of the mug, his eyes wandering over your face just as yours did with his. There were scars here and there, you noticed, and a part of you just wanted to run your fingers along them.

After a second of your heart beating against your chest so loudly you feared he might hear it, a second of being mere inches away, a second where all your mind did was scream “oh dear god, what if we _kiss_ ” (though you weren’t certain whether you wanted it to happen or not, it was all rather confusing), his eyes flickered back to the counter. “It might get cold if we don’t drink it as soon as possible.”

You were shocked by the composure of your voice when you replied. “I thought you liked the cold.”

“Ha, funny.” He simply rolled his eyes, but there was no malice in them. You swore his ears had grown at least fifteen shades pinker during the last few seconds, and you wondered just how _you_ looked as well.

Leading the way towards your living room, you tried to compose yourself. _I’m just drinking hot chocolate with Leonard Snart, nothing to get all flustered about. We’re just drinking hot chocolate. In my apartment. With a criminal. A dangerous criminal. A dangerous criminal who’s saved my life. And seemed to be quite worried for me. What if- no, don’t go there._

Your thoughts were interrupted as Leonard spoke up, voice drawling yet not bored. “You know, I liked the main character.”

Perking your ears at the mention of Ava, the main character of the book he’d picked up, you raised your brows. Sitting down in your plush, grey, couch, you replied. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, she’s snarky. She reminds me a bit of you, actually.” His words hit you like a bus (or at least what you thought it’d feel to be hit by one. Barry had been, more than once, and you’d been glad it was him, with his healing abilities, and not you), and you were glad he was standing up, examining an art piece hanging on your wall, or else he’d see _your_ ears getting at least some shade of bright red.

“Well,” you started. “I’m not that surprised. I kind of projected myself into the story when I wrote it. Ava feels like a piece of me, kind of like a child, if I’m to draw similes.”

It was the truth, you’d heavily projected yourself into the story, at the time not feeling entirely happy with your then quite ordinary life. In the beginning, you’d tried to distance yourself from your characters, but after a while you’d simply let yourself get attached and divide parts of yourself and people you knew between them. You’d had to edit the first part of the book _much_ more than the rest, as you noticed completely devoting yourself to the story and the characters in that way apparently helped the writing flow more naturally. Though this you refrained from telling him, you were afraid you’d bore him if you ranted on about the process of writing for too long.

He joined you on the couch as you started the television. “May I?” He asked, holding a hand out, asking for the remote. You obliged, and felt a spark run through your body as your fingers briefly touched his. Trying to ignore how he was sat literally right next to you on your two-seat couch, your arms touching and how you could practically feel the heat of his body through his knitted sweated – which still befuddled you – you leaned back into the soft pillows, sipping your drink.

“So, what do you want to watch?” He inquired, waving the remote slightly.

You hummed, pondering for a bit. “I’m down for whatever. I’ve got Netflix, so if you wanna look for something there just press the red button in the middle.”

“Press the red button, I like it.” He then proceeded to look through your list of saved movies and shows, chuckling at some while raising his brows at some. Eventually, he stopped on one with a sentimental smile. “My neighbor Totoro. I haven’t seen that in _ages_. I remember watching it with Lisa when we were younger, we snuck into the cinema for the fun of it and ended up at this movie.”

Seeing him open up like this was completely new for you, and you hated to say that you enjoyed it. It was nice to see this side of him – and you were flattered he felt comfortable enough to show it to you. _If it’s even true. Maybe he made that story up to make me trust him. Maybe all of this is an act._ You had to stop yourself from going down that road. While it was a possibility that he was in fact faking it all, you didn’t believe the chance to be that high. And if it was, you could always take him on. Kicking the cold gun away from where he’d rested it against the coffee table wouldn’t be that hard, and after that you were pretty much on the same level.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d already seen this movie during your time in quarantine. You’d actually had a whole Studio Ghibli marathon the first few days – which had both given you an immense amount of inspiration, and also a terrible headache from crying so much. So, when he pressed play, you didn’t say anything. It was a good movie and watching it again wouldn’t be horrible at all. Perhaps you would even notice new details, you told yourself.

Well, maybe you would’ve, hadn’t you been so _bloody_ tired. Just fifteen minutes in and you’d already yawned too many times to count. It was honestly a bit embarrassing. As you tried to suppress another one, Leonard’s eyes flickered to your face. They’d done that a few times, and you’d tried to act as if you didn’t notice, even though it made your head spin with thoughts. “You tired?”

Nodding slightly, you looked back at him. “I may or may not have stayed up way too late last night writing.”

“Stupid,” he said with a teasing tone. “Were you asleep when I rang the doorbell? You can’t have gotten that many hours of sleep?”

With a grimace, you replied. “Yeah, I was, maybe four or five, at the most. And that includes waking up a few times as well.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve come then.” He made a move to rise from his seat, but you placed your hand on his forearm, stopping him.

“No, no, it’s no big deal.” With your words, he sat back down, with a look that asked if you were for real. As you nodded, he put down his now empty mug and leaned back into the couch as well.

It was now you realized you were still holding onto his arm, and with a mental scolding at yourself, you let go. Leonard’s eyes traveled to where your hand had lied, and after a quick glance back up at your face, which was now looking at the movie again, he reached the small distance and took it. Hadn’t you trained yourself not to show reactions too loudly, you feared you would’ve simply melted on the spot. The heat on your face didn’t falter, it simply increased. Noticing how you didn’t pull away, he started drawing circles with his thumb on your palm, sending shivers down your spine. When he stopped for a second, perhaps to see if you were alright with it (which, _God_ , you definitely were), you squeezed his hand, telling him to continue. As he did so, it was with a smile.

You felt yourself get more and more drowsy, your eyes not wanting to stay open for more than seconds at a time, and your head growing heavy. Somehow, he’d moved closer to you, and your hand had ended up in his lap, still held by him. It was a nice feeling, and the tenderness of the gesture made you both weak and confused. As your eyes closed for good, you felt him shuffle, and your head being placed on something solid – which you probably knew was his shoulder yet couldn’t exactly process at the time being. You simply smiled, being content with it all.

Just before dozing off, you lifted your head, realizing you were still holding onto your mug. After gently placing it on the table, you were going to snuggle back into the couch. However, before you did that, you threw a glance at Leonard’s face. His head was leaned back against the back of the couch, his brows were relaxed, and his lips were slightly parted. His lips, which you’d thought about before, but never dared to look at, scared of what dreams might haunt you afterwards. Now, consumed by sleepiness, you allowed yourself to truly look at him, take him in completely. He looked so different like this, so much softer, and the quickening thumps of your heart didn’t have to tell you that you liked it.

After a few seconds, you put your head back on his shoulder. If he was asleep as well, what was the danger, you thought? You were just about to doze off when you felt him rest his head on top of yours, and it’s safe to say you fell asleep with a smile on your face.

* * *

When you woke up, the television had been turned off, and you were now lying down on the couch. Snart wasn’t there, and with groggy eyes you sat up. A fluffy blanket had been placed over you, which you were grateful for, and with it wrapped around you, you stood up, stretching your still-sleeping muscles. Your head felt strange, as it always did after a nap, but you also felt weirdly energetic for just having woken up. The clock on your wall showed it was eleven o’clock, and when you looked out the window you could see the sun shining through the thick, grey, clouds. It was going to be a nice day.

The mugs had been removed from the table, and the cold gun wasn’t rested against it anymore either. A coldness spread through your chest, and you sighed. You hadn’t exactly expected him to stay there with you, even with the odd, and quite tender, situation you’d experienced, but waking up to emptiness was never a nice feeling. You strolled into the kitchen, putting on the radio which stood on your kitchen table. It was playing a synth-song which you couldn’t recall the name of, and you silently hummed along to it.

_He’s done the dishes. Holy shit, he’s done the_ dishes _? What in the actual fuck?_ You stopped dead in your tracks, taken aback by the gesture. Not only had he washed the two mugs you’d used but taken care of your dinner plate and cutlery from last night as well – which you’d put off doing, sitting down with your laptop to write instead. Your heart swelled, and it was almost that you missed the note lying on the counter in your glee. Reading it, you smiled while chewing on your gums.

“[name].

Thanks for today. I took care of the dishes; you needed the rest.

Sorry for leaving without saying goodbye, I suppose this note counts as it though. There are some things I need to handle.

Guess we’ll have to save that apartment tour for another time.”

It was signed with a wink-emoji, and his initials, making you snort. The flirting tone in the last sentence, along with the smiley, were not lost on you. _Is this really happening?_ you asked yourself. _How did I end up here, holding a note from_ Leonard Snart _about going on an “apartment tour”? Or- am I misinterpreting the meaning behind it? No, no, I can’t be. Holy shit. I can’t process this._ So, instead, you laughed. Or, rather, giggled like a schoolgirl. It was all so odd, and you felt all weird and gooey inside, a feeling you definitely hadn’t anticipated to feel – especially not because of him. _What the hell is going on?_

Taking your phone from your back pocket, wanting to immortalize this piece of evidence, you were surprised by the amount of missed call and texts you had. Nearly everyone in Team Flash had called you, at least once, during the past hours, and you were just about to call one of them back up before you saw the (extremely many) texts Cisco had sent you. They had all been sent in the last hour, and you wondered why you hadn’t been woken up by the notifications, until you realized you’d turned them off last night to not be disturbed when writing. Mentally facepalming, you opened the messages app up, to see what the situation was.

Most of the texts were telling you to pick up, in various ways, with various sized letters and various amount of exclamation marks. These would’ve made you worried, but in one of them he wrote that it simply concerned your – as he described it – captivity, and that you should call back when you were available. He also sent several gifs, so it couldn’t be that big of an emergency. The last text he sent, which you’d received 33 minutes ago according to your phone, questioned why he’d just seen Leonard Snart leave your house through surveillance cameras, and if you were still alive. That was then followed by an abundance of question marks. You rolled your eyes, smiling at his worry all the while understanding it. Not wanting to worry Cisco or the others anymore, you decided to call him right away, or else you were afraid they might actually come for you, all rescue-mission-y.

He picked up after one signal, and you couldn’t help but to mess with him just a little. “Hello, this is [name’s] corpse speaking. I have just been brutally murdered and am desperately dead at the moment, I can’t take your call right now.”

His voice on the other end of the line was worried, but still sounded somewhat relieved to hear your voice. “Hey, stop teasing me. Are you sure you’re alive? What was he even doing there in the first place?”

“I’m splendid, Cisco. What’s the big emergency you’ve been texting about?” You tactfully avoided the question – or at least you thought you did.

“Well,” he began, “we just caught a bad guy this morning and then we had some time over before everyone had to rush so we started working on you know, your situation. We just wanted to make sure you were in on it, so that we wouldn’t accidentally- hey, you didn’t answer my question!”

You sighed in defeat. “We had coffee and watched a movie, now continue, please.”

“You did _what_ now?!” He exclaimed, and you were glad you had your phone on speaker, or else your ear would’ve hurt. “Okay, you’re _definitely_ telling us all about that when you get here. That’s what I wanted to tell you, by the way, we solved the issue with the bomb. You should be free from captivity now, so go roam free, zoo animal. And don’t think I’ll forget about you and Snart’s little date, you’re coming here and telling us _all_ about it asap.”

After ending the call, you found yourself smiling. God, you really loved your friends.

* * *

Honestly, you found it terrifying to leave your place knowing the reason you hadn’t been able to before. Even though you trusted Cisco – shit, sometimes you trusted him more than you trusted yourself – taking those steps away from the door had your stomach in knots. When you weren’t blown to bits by a bomb, you almost did a happy dance. _Almost_. You settled with a small fist pump in the air, feeling successful. Not that you’d minded the comfort of your own home, but it felt nice to know you were allowed to go elsewhere now as well.

Stopping by Jitters for some coffee and lunch to go, you made your way over to your store. The walk there from your home had been peaceful – well, as peaceful as a walk in Central City could get – and you felt as if the hibernation you’d gone through had done you some well, leaving you feeling energetic and positive. You couldn’t wait to talk to Agatha about the new story you’d started writing either, knowing it was right down her alley. Seeing the building which harbored your beloved business, you realized how much you’d missed it. Your shop had been a huge part of your life for a long time, now, and it oftentimes worked as one of the few things to keep you grounded – not too caught up in all the superhero drama you sometimes found yourself in thanks to being part of the team.

The familiar chime of the bell when you entered made it feel as if you’d come home as soon as you walked through the door. Agatha’s red head peaked out from behind the door to the small kitchen slash dining room that laid behind the counter. When she saw your face she lit up, in that way only old ladies can lit up. “[name]!”

You hurried over to her, greeting her with a big hug. “Oh, Agatha, I’ve missed you. How have you been?”

“Don’t worry about me, young lady. You know I can handle myself perfectly fine. I’ve been worried for you, you know, staying inside for so long… you haven’t experienced any signs of scurvy, have you?”

With a laugh, you dismissed her, walking into the small room and putting what you’d brought from Jitters on the wobbly table. “I’m not sure that even is common anymore, Agatha. I brought lunch; do you want some? It’s your favorite.”

She took the paper box from your hands and opened it gingerly. Shaking her head at pointing accusatory at you, she sat down. “Red pasta pesto, you really think you can bribe me with food, huh? Well, you’re absolutely correct.”

You didn’t eat in silence. There was too much to talk about, and you almost forgot you had to go to STAR Labs afterwards as well. During catch-your-breath-break in the conversation, you sent a text to Cisco which led: “at bookstore with agatha, lot to talk abt, might be late sorry”, followed by a bunch of sad emojis and hearts. To that, he replied with a tea emoji, making you shake your head with a smile.

After finishing lunch, you went out into the actual store. Drawing a breath of air, your eyes almost teared up. The smell of books had always been your favorite. Before leaving, you had to take a few minutes to just _be_. Besides the playlist of the month – which this time mostly consisted of lo-fi hip-hop - sounding softly throughout the store, you could hear the faint sound of the city traffic coming from outside. Dragging your hand along a wooden bookshelf – one of many in the room – you realized you’d been so caught up in talking about your new idea while eating that you hadn’t asked the obvious question. “How’s it been here when I was gone? No break-ins or scary fights between metahumans, I hope.”

Agatha paused for a second. “Now that you mention it, something odd _did_ happen. Earlier today, a man came in and asked for your books. Said he wanted one of each you’ve written. I found it peculiar, since you haven’t exactly marketed them that much, and it’s been a while since the last one came out.”

The news made your head spin. So, you asked, even though you already knew. “A man? What did he look like?”

“Like the personification of tall, dark, and handsome. Buzzcut, and he was wearing one of those ugly Christmas sweaters, you know? Do you know the guy?” She was standing behind the counter, filling up a container of bookmarks, not looking at you, so she didn’t see you nodding.

“Yeah. I do.” _What the hell. Leonard bought all my books. Well this day has certainly been interesting, and it’s only lunchtime. Don’t know if I can handle much more, it’s making my head feel weird, and my stomach. Not necessarily bad-weird, though…_

Agatha simply smiled. “Good, otherwise I would’ve gotten worried, it felt rather stalker-y. Is he a close acquaintance of yours?”

The teasing look on her face made you understand the true meaning behind the question, and you exhaled, looking at the book your hand had ended resting upon – a collector edition of a book you still hadn’t read, which you decided to bring home with you. “That’s a good question, Agatha. Would you put this on me?”

In your head, the thoughts danced around as if it was a ballroom, and you found yourself wondering was Leonard Snart truly was to you. Was he a stranger? Was he an acquaintance through work? Was he a friend, or was he perhaps more than one? Or, as you’d thought many a time before, was he simply one of many enemies you’d handled? As you made your way towards STAR Labs, you still hadn’t made up your mind. All the while, his voice echoed in your mind.

_“Only for you.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo this happened lol? been rlly busy but i finally finished the second chapter so yay!

“So,” Caitlin cornered you, as you sat down at your desk at STAR Labs. It was the first word spoken since you had entered a few minutes ago, the other’s in the room simply staring at you, waiting for an explanation. “Care to tell us what you and Mr. Ice Cold were doing together – _in your home_?”

You hummed, gazing at your friends. Caitlin was standing by your desk, leaning against the wall behind it. She seemed like the most genuinely curious one – the others simply looked worried. Cisco was sitting by his desk, having spun around on his chair so that he was looking right at you, slowly and almost mindlessly chewing on a twizzler. His gaze on you made you look away, but as your eyes landed on Barry you instantly regretted it. Standing beside Cisco’s desk, he was staring at you with disbelief, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nope,” you said jokingly, “gotta leave some room for interpretation, right?”

Cisco reeled at this. “Absolutely not! _Ew_ , [name]. TMI, or, well… not enough information, but you get what I mean.”

“Come on, [name].” It was Barry who spoke up next, and you knew you were in for a moral lecture. “You know who we’re talking about, right. This isn’t some guy you met at a café or whatever, it’s _Leonard Snart_. Captain Cold. An actual criminal.”

With a sigh, you ran a hand through your hair. “Barr, I know. I’m just joking around, okay? He came over, said he wanted to go for coffee, but with me being stuck at home we simply had coffee inside. Well, we had hot chocolate – but that’s beside the point. The point is that nothing happened except him turning out to be an actual human being and putting a blanket on me after I accidentally fell asleep on his shoulder. Okay?”

You rushed through that last bit, as if ripping off a band-aid, not knowing how they would take it. Eyes focused on Barry; you mostly saw his reaction. As he simply sighed deeply and ran his hands down his face, you felt somewhat relieved. Looking over at the other two, you noticed their faces being much less worried than Barry’s.

“You’re telling me _Captain Cold_ drinks hot chocolate? And is capable of emotions other than annoyance?” Cisco looked as if he didn’t believe you.

“Oh, he very much does,” you began, a smile creeping onto your face. “He also complimented my writing and is a Studio Ghibli fan. Not to mention he also fell asleep on _me_ , so that’s that!”

Caitlin laughed as Cisco made a disgusted face. She seemed the one most okay with the situation, but you weren’t surprised. You two were the closest, and she was probably the one who understood you best out of the team. Cisco and Barry were the overprotective brothers in this scenario, and Caitlin the supportive sister. Iris would’ve also been, had she been present, but she was currently busy at her actual job – as was Joe. “That’s… unexpectedly soft.”

“Yeah, I know, right? Just don’t go around telling everybody, we wouldn’t want word to get out that Captain Cold’s heart isn’t actually that frozen.” You offered a smiled at the boys, who were starting to warm up to the thought, chuckling slightly.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up again before anyone else could, wanting to get the attention off you and Leonard. “So, what about this meta? You guys caught him?”

“Nuh-huh, [name],” Cisco butted in, not buying into your games. “don’t try to change the subject. We caught him, yeah, but is that _really_ what’s important right now?”

You rolled your eyes at him, starting your computer up, needing something to do. “Yeah, _it is_. Saving the world is much more important than my nonexistent love life.”

“Aha!” He exclaimed, pointed at you, “so you’re agreeing that it wasn’t just nothing? Was it… perhaps… even a date?”

At this point you knew he wasn’t lecturing you; he was simply teasing you. Still, you groaned, having been caught. “Okay, alright, whatever – yes, it wasn’t nothing. Are you pleased now? And no, I don’t think I would’ve called it a date? That requires it being planned, and he just dropped by out of the blue.”

“Cisco,” Caitlin began, placing a hand on your shoulder, “stop teasing her, it’s obvious she feels too embarrassed about this _date_ to talk about it.”

“Hey!” You squeaked at her blatant teasing as well, thinking she was about to stand up for you. She simply grinned at you and squeezed your shoulder before walking over to her own computer. After a few clicks, she turned the screen towards you, and you rolled your eyes at what was shown – Snart walking out of your apartment, rubbing his eyes and yawning, strapping his cold gun back on and correcting his jacket before heading off out of view from the camera.

She beamed at your reaction. “Aw, look, you’re blushing!”

“God, I still can’t believe it…” Barry mumbled, and Cisco patted his arm reassuringly. “Snart, out of all people?”

You logged into your computer, groaning at his comment. “Yeah, yeah. I know, terrible choice. But nothing happened, and nothing will happen, so don’t put too much energy on this – and that includes teasing me. Okay?”

They nodded solemnly, and you felt at least a little bit of relief. What you’d said might not be the entire truth, but it was what was needed for them to shut up about it all. “Alright, now will you brief me about this meta?”

* * *

You rubbed your eyes with a sigh, putting down the book you were currently reading – you’d picked it out randomly without checking neither title nor summary, and had found yourself surprised at how good it was. Letting yourself be enthralled by its fictional world, comprehensive plot, and relatable characters, you’d spent the last few hours sitting by the desk in your store. It had been a slow day with few customers, and you’d gotten bored, your mind drifting off to Leonard – something you wanted to avoid, which was why you’d opted on reading instead.

Judging by the scenery outside the windows, it was already evening, making you sigh. You’d planned on cooking dinner early tonight, but it seemed that was out of the plan. Checking your phone in your pocket, you grimaced. The shop usually closed at six, but it was already half past seven and you still had a few things left to do – things you’d almost forgotten about while reading. You wouldn’t be home until at least past eight, and that was if you hurried. _Shit_ , you cursed yourself.

Pushing the chair back, your body ached from sitting in the same position for too long. You hadn’t meant to; you’d just wanted to distract yourself from thinking of Leonard. It had been a few weeks since your quarantine had ended, and you hadn’t seen him since. You’d heard rumors about him being spotted here and there, but you’d yet to see him for yourself. You didn’t know if you even wanted to, not knowing how you were supposed to act after what had happened the last time you’d met. For other people, it probably wouldn’t have been too big of a deal, but this is _Leonard Snart_ we’re talking about here. With his image, you didn’t think there were many who were allowed to see him in such a relaxed and vulnerable state as you had – and you felt as if that meant something, to the both of you.

_Yeah, well, I probably won’t see him like that again. We’ll probably run into each other on a mission or something and he’ll be as cold as usual – pun intended – so I really_ don’t _have to worry about it…_

You stretched your arms over your head and to the sides as you trekked into the small kitchen, deciding you needed a glass of water before finishing up the last few things. As the water flowed from the tap, you thought you heard the bell ring in the shop, signaling someone entering. You closed the tap quickly, holding your breath to try to hear if someone was truly out there. As two or three seconds passed without a sound, you felt relieved for a moment, sure you’d just imagined it. But then you heard what was obviously footsteps, making their way towards the desk.

_Oh fuck. I should’ve locked the door. It’s definitely not someone looking for books. No, this person is out for either me or Agatha. Otherwise they would’ve said something, or gone towards the shelves._

Said woman wasn’t working today, meaning you were all alone – with a possible intruder at that. Your mind raced, trying to think of who it could possibly be. The list was long, there were plenty of people you’d upset during your time with Team Flash who’d be more than willing to get their revenge – though you’d never revealed your true identity to any of them. As the footsteps approached, you grabbed the knife you’d used to cut your morning bagel with, which was still lying on the counter. It wasn’t like you weren’t a meta with powers of your own, you just wanted the assurance of an actual weapon in your hands.

The footsteps were just outside the kitchen, and you raised your weapon, ready to defend yourself against whoever it was. You cursed yourself for not turning on the lights in the room, the only source of light being the ones in the shop. Bracing yourself, one of your hands was holding your phone, ready to send an emergency signal to the team if necessary. You hoped it wouldn’t be.

A figure stood in the doorway, tall and dark. Shadows were cast on them, making it impossible to make out any features. Except a large gun propped on their hip, making your breath hitch before you looked at it twice. You recognized that gun, and now that you thought of it, you recognized the person holding it as well. Though, you still held onto your knife. “Snart?”

“[name]? Are you going to stab me with that bread knife?”

Yup, it was him. That was the assurance you needed to put the knife down, as well as your phone, turning it off. There wasn’t a need to send a distress signal for this – whatever this was – you hoped. “Yeah, that was the plan. You caught me, though. Guess it’ll have to wait now.”

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” he commented, flicking the lights on, “Why is it so dark in here? And why _are_ you here?”

You furrowed your brows at his questions. “Well, I am here because I _work_ here, unless you’ve forgotten. And it’s dark because I forgot to turn the lights on, duh.”

Now knowing it was only Snart and not some vicious criminal on their path to vengeance (though they were perhaps the same), you turned back to the sink, picking the glass filled with water up. As you took a sip, you focused on calming yourself down. Had it truly been someone else, someone looking for trouble, you would’ve had to deal with the situation, sure, but you had still felt terribly nervous at the thought. Now, standing with him only a meter away, gazing intensely at you, you feared that the nerves you were currently experiencing were caused by something else.

“It’s late, though, [name]. You should’ve closed hours ago, why are you still here, was what I meant?” He asked, with less sarcasm in his voice than before.

“Oh,” you hummed, rinsing the glass and putting it to dry off, “well, you see. I was reading and forgot the time, that’s it.”

“That’s it? You were reading?”

“Yes, I was. I picked up this boo- hey, by the way, what are _you_ doing here?” You finally realized how odd the whole situation was, that he was visiting your shop when it was supposed to be closed. “You weren’t planning to…”

He scoffed. “No, I didn’t come here to steal. Do you really think so lowly off me, [name]?”

“No!” You were quick to defend yourself, noticing the look on his face – borderlining on hurt, but his façade hid it well. “Of course not. It’s just… like you said, we’re supposed to be closed, and here you are.”

You took a step forward, letting out a small “excuse me, I kind of have to pass through”. He took the hint, stepping back, the both of you making your way into the store again. Entering the much larger room, you felt as if your airways worked properly again. Something about being so close to him made it harder to breathe, but you decided that was an issue for a later date. So, you headed over to where you’d left off earlier that day – the historical fiction section. Your cart stood where you’d left it, still some books in it. With a sigh, you began filling the shelves up.

Leonard simply stood by the desk, leaning against it casually, observing you. It took him a few moments to answer the question you’d asked him, but once he did, you were glad he couldn’t see your now blushing face. “I was just passing by, and I thought I might as well check if anyone’s here. What’s wrong, am I not allowed to pop by and say hello to my favorite Team Flash member?”

“Shut up,” was your initial reaction. Not knowing how to react to what you believed to be a compliment, you did what you always did – played it off. “Everyone knows Cisco’s your favorite member; I mean, it’s downright obvious.”

He simple looked at you for a moment, your eyes locking, before reacting. “Yeah, right. As if I could stand that-“

Noticing the look you were giving him, which was saying something along the lines of “don’t go too far, Cisco is my best friend and I’ll personally gut you if you say anything mean about him”, he stopped himself, clearing his throat.

“I mean, Cisco is probably a nice guy, but he definitely isn’t my favorite member from your little group of superheroes. That award goes to you, obviously.”

You chuckled at his save, changing the place of a book you noticed was misplaced. “Yeah, thanks. You’re my favorite Central City criminal as well, for what it’s worth.”

“Only Central City, you’re breaking my heart, [name]!” He said jokingly, and you heard footsteps coming over to you. “You want any help with that, by the way?”

As you looked up at him, you realized you probably shouldn’t have. He was now standing right beside you; you could basically feel his breath fanning your face as you tried to pull yourself together again. “Sure. I’ll get home earlier if you help me, so why not. It’s not hard, you just place the books where they’re supposed to be – just ask me if there’s something that doesn’t make sense.”

He nodded and picked up a few books from the cart, searching for where they were supposed to stand. Just as you were about to cut in and help him, he found the spot himself, placing the book there with a pleased look on his face. The scene was so unnatural, and just like when he’d fallen asleep against you on your couch, you had to simply stop and stare at him for a second. However, this time he was actually awake, and noticed your staring. As he sent you a questioning look, you averted your eyes, focusing on the task once again.

“So,” you began after a while. While the silence was enjoyable, and not as suffocating as one would think when alone with Leonard Snart, you were beginning to grow tired, and needed a distraction from your drooping eyes. “Why were you passing by, anyways? I didn’t think this was one of your regular neighborhoods.”

He hummed, and as you looked at him in the corner of your eye, you swore you could’ve seen him turn slightly pink. “The usual, you know. Being a criminal, doing illegal stuff.”

“Ah, why do I even ask? Anything new going on, any big robberies or stuff in the planning?” You knew he wouldn’t tell you, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least ask and make some small talk.

Your hands touched briefly as you reached for the same book, both of you hesitating before pulling away. He looked you in the eyes as he placed it where it was supposed to be. “As much as I appreciate you asking, you know I can’t tell you. That’d be counteractive. Your gang of misfits would just show up to save the day.”

“And I hope you know we still most likely will.” You bumped your elbow against his jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to work, and you were glad it did. This wasn’t a topic you wanted to discuss now, and unless anything happened, you didn’t plan on having that talk at all. You knew that with him being a criminal and you fighting crime, whatever _this_ was, it wasn’t something that could ever work out.

_Enemies to lovers is an amazing trope in books and movies, but it doesn’t exactly work that way in real life. I mean, take this interaction for example. He’s probably planning a crime at the moment, a crime which me and my friends (or simply just Barry, depending on if it’s ordinary crime or meta-related crime) will most likely either try to stop, or try to solve afterwards, depending on its success rate. And- oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding with me!_

You’d taken a look at the book in your hands, and realized that it was one of the current most popular books with the enemies to lovers trope – a book where the main character was the “hero” and the love interest was the “villain”. You cursed inwardly at this irony.

“So,” you started, wanting to clear the air and change the subject. “How’ve you been lately? Haven’t seen you in a while… Not that I’ve been actively looking or anything!”

He chuckled. “Yeah, sure. But to answer your question, I’ve been busy with you know… work stuff. The guys I’m working with this time are a pain in the ass, just wait ‘til you meet them – you probably will, they’re lousy criminals as well, you’ll catch them easily. Anyways so yeah, I’ve been trying to keep them from messing anything up, that’s why you probably haven’t seen me around as much.”

“Why are you even working with them if they’re such shitheads?” You were surprised at how much he’d given away – yet he hadn’t actually revealed anything of value for your team (not that you were planning on interrogating him either way, can’t a meta get a break from saving the city every now and then?). “Though you only worked solo nowadays.”

As the last book was put away, you rolled the cart to the storage room where it was kept during the night. Snart went to look out the windows onto the almost empty street. He sighed, dragging a hand over his head – had his hair grown out more since last time, or was it just your imagination? “Yeah, I thought so too… Had to make an exemption this time though, as shitty as they are, I _do_ need their help. I can’t- wait, are you interrogating me?”

“Nope,” you said, closing the door to the storage room and dusting your hands on your pants as you walked over to him. Normally, you weren’t able to see outside very clearly at night because of the lights inside the shop, but the ones closest to the door and windows had broken a few days ago and you still hadn’t gotten around to fixing it (something you now decided was definitely on tomorrow’s agenda), so now you were able to get a clear view of the dark street outside. The other stores were already dark – with a few exceptions – and there were less people than usual outside.

As you looked over at him, he raised his eyebrows, and you jabbed at him playfully. “Really! I’m off duty tonight, alright? Pinky promise?”

You stretched your hand out, pinky first, and he simply looked at you before giving in. “What are you, five?”

With a smile, you took a step forward, closer to the window. It had apparently started to rain while you were stacking books, because there was water slowly streaming down the window. You let your finger follow a trickling drop from the inside, stopping as it merged with another. In the reflection on the glass surface, you could see Snart looking at you. He looked uncertain, hesitating before taking a step forward as well, so that he was standing behind you.

Hands being placed on your hips; you swore you had a minor heart attack. Your eyes locked with his through the reflection, and you could see the prominent blush on his face – something that seemed so out of the ordinary for him. His hands were firm, yet hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure if to keep them there or draw them back immediately. If we’re being honest here, you’d like it if he kept them there, but that was just your personal preference.

“I get it, though,” you said, heart still hammering in your chest. “You can’t tell me too much about your gig, or it’ll fuck up even worse than it probably already will. It’s alright, I won’t probe more.”

He seemed pleased at your comment, moving slightly, so that he was now standing even closer to you – which seemed impossible to you, but hey, here we are! You could feel the warmth radiating off his body, and you knew that if you just leaned back ever so slightly, you’d rest your back against his chest. So, you did, just for the fuck of it – like, why not? His body tensed for a second, but he then adjusted his hold on you, so that his arms were now enveloping you in a proper back hug – and had his arms not been holding you up, you’d certainly melted away right there and then.

“Thank you,” he mumbled against your hair, and you felt his breath fan your ear and cheek, sending a shiver down your spine which you hoped he didn’t notice, “for understanding.”

You hummed, enjoying the moment. Even though it felt like something forbidden – like Romeo and Juliet sharing a secret kiss on the balcony – you also felt a flash of safety, being in his arms. Not so much safety from him being strong and able to protect you, but more so a similar feeling to that of arriving back to shore after a stomach-turning boat-journey, or the ground after a turbulent flight. It was an indescribable feeling, and one you definitely didn’t want to give too much thought to. So instead you simply rested your head back, putting your hands over his and mindlessly drawing shapes and patterns on them.

His next move made your breath hitch and your eyes widen. He moved his head down towards your shoulders, nose drawing a line down your neck. Never had you been happier to not have chosen a turtleneck in the morning. He stopped at the crook of your neck, nuzzling his head – and in that moment you didn’t care that he was one hundred percent able to feel your racing pulse.

Then, his phone rang.

_Oh, fuck off!_ You thought as he backed away, releasing you reluctantly. Turning around to look at him, you noticed he put his serious mask back on, face and voice both signaling business as he spoke to whoever was on the other line. You barely held a smirk back as you noticed his red-tinted ears, however. His words didn’t give too much away, mostly being “yeah”, “no”, and “shit”, with an occasional sprinkle of “fuck off” here and there.

“Alright, I’ll be there. In 10, I swear. Don’t break anything.” He ended the call, swearing silently to himself and quickly picking the cold gun – which he’d laid on the counter – back up, strapping it on his belt.

You tilted your head to the side, trying to not look too disappointed. “Something wrong?”

“Unfortunately. Minor hiccups in the plan, but they can’t solve it without me. Sorry, sunshine, I have to leave.” He sounded genuinely sad at the prospect of leaving, but you assured him it was alright, that he had to go save their asses so that you could kick them later. Your heart had skipped at the pet name, but you decided to leave it for another day.

“Hey,” you stopped him before he made it to the door. “You still need to give me a review on those books, you know.”

“Ah, I didn’t think you knew…” he said, somewhat sheepishly. _Didn’t know what, that you bought copies of all the books I’ve written, the same day we had a conversation about them?_ “I absolutely will, when I finish the last of them.”

“Pinky promise?” You joked, smiling at him. He and took your hand in his, linking your pinkies together.

“Pinky promise.” Before leaving, he sent you a smile that could make even the greatest kings and queens weak in their knees; a special smile, reserved only for the most intimate of moments. Reserved, it seemed, only for you.

* * *

_My life is over._

At least that was how it felt. You stood on the sidewalk, a think blanket wrapped around you, staring at your store on the other side of the road. It had all happened so quickly, and you still weren’t processing what was going on; feeling as if you were watching a movie. As flames slicked the walls of the building, it felt as if it was your soul that burned. There were tears running down your cheeks – you could feel them, but you didn’t bother wiping them away. There would, after all, only be more of them either way.

The fire department had shown up, along with several cops as well as an ambulance. It was you that had called them, panic in your voice, telling them to hurry. Now, they were getting to work, gearing up and getting ready to go in. You feared, not only for your store but for the people living in the apartments above. You wanted to help them, desperately, and you’d never hated your power as much as then – completely unable to do anything but stare and wait.

You’d felt it while vacuuming, a heat radiating from the wall, and your heart had dropped like a stone. There had been no time to hesitate, and you’d made sure to grab your coat and backpack while calling for help. A moment of gratitude for the experience with stressful, dangerous, situations thanks to Team Flash, you’d ran out, pressing the buttons for the apartments, trying to warm them.

Forty minutes. That’s how long it took. Perhaps not forty minutes of active firefighting, but forty minutes, nonetheless. There were, fortunately, no casualties – and thanks to efficient work, not many injuries either. As the firefighters had escorted people downstairs and out, you found yourself helping the medics, needing to occupy yourself. Thanks to assisting Caitlin after Barry taking it upon himself to save people from similar situations, you had at least some experience in the area.

“Miss?” Someone touched your shoulder, and you turned around quickly, startled. “Excuse me, miss, but you need to fill in a few things over here. Are you alright to do that?”

You nodded curtly, trying to compose yourself. _I’m alright, it’s going to be alright, I’m alright, I’m strong, I just need to look strong._ “Yes, sir.”

You followed him towards where the police were standing, noticing another car parking just behind the others, having come in with a high speed. The doors were slammed open and then shut, and as you saw the face of Joe, it all crumpled. He rushed over, face filled with dread, engulfing you in a tight hug.

“[name],” he said, voice cracking ever the slightest. “[name], are you alright? Have they checked you yet, you’re not hurt? No smoke inhaled, no burns, right?”

You nodded against his chest, not bothering thinking about him perhaps not noticing it – as he replied “good” right away. Head and heart hurting, your tears flowed, soaking his uniform, but he didn’t complain. Instead, he simply rubbed your back, whispering that it all would be alright. And, as you choked out “my store”, he squeezed you harder before pulling away, looking over to the other officer, who was looking at you sympathetically.

“I’ll handle this, officer.” He said, leading you towards his car. While grateful for all the help received, your mind was occupied with what would happen now. Your bookshop was a huge part of your life – even as you were a member of Team Flash – and you couldn’t imagine life without it. But now, perhaps you would have to.

* * *

Cheery voices filled your apartment as you opened the door, your friends tumbling inside. Iris had decided that it was time the three of you girls in the team had an official Girl’s Night, and you had volunteered to lend your apartment for this special occasion. You’d had – or at least tried to have – Girl’s Nights’ before, but this time they had let you be the one to decide what you should do (mostly since Iris had decided on going _out_ out last time, it had ended up with accidentally picking a fight with another meta, and Caitlin’s choice to go to an exhibition about the history of molecular biology had felt like work). So, you’d decided on a movie night.

It was just what you needed to take your mind off things – a nice and easy evening at your place, with your friends. So, you’d cleaned, and you’d prepared blankets and pillows in case they wanted to stay the night. You’d offered to prepare food and snacks as well, but they’d forced you not to, saying that you were doing more than enough already, and that they’d take care of it.

Sharing quick hugs and greetings, you led them into the living room where they put down their things. You were about to head into the kitchen when Iris brought you in for another hug, this one tighter and longer than the last. “I’m sorry, I just had to. It feels like we haven’t seen each other much since… it happened; we’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you said as she released you, squeezing Caitlin’s hand for a second as well. “Now, let’s see what you’ve brought!”

Not too much later, the table in your living room had been besieged. Plates with pizza slices, glasses with fizzy beverages, bowls of mixed candy (you eyed the m&m’s, wanting to snatch it before the others), chocolate-covered strawberries, popcorn, as well as other things. Your stomach grumbled, and you picked up a plate with pizza on it. You knew your friends often ordered fast food, but you tried to stick to homemade food as much as possible – both for the sake of your wallet, and because it had become a part of your life by now.

A young Leonardo DiCaprio kisses an even younger Claire Danes in Romeo+Juliet on the television screen, and the three of you simultaneously let out an “aww”. It wasn’t you who chose the movie, you’d given that task to Iris, but you definitely weren’t disappointed. It was a sweet movie, and while it wasn’t perhaps your all-time favorite, you’d seen it enough times to be able to recite at least a few scenes from it by heart. That was one of the inconsequential upsides to having had a young-Leonardo-DiCaprio phase (which you had to admit you weren’t exactly proud of – but hey, the man was pretty!).

Afterwards, you sat crying, arms hugging the pillow you’d picked up before tightly. Sitting in the middle, your two friends were both cuddled up against you; something that seemed so out of the ordinary yet felt completely natural. You hadn’t intended to cry – you hadn’t cried the last time you watched it, after all – but Iris’ sobbing next to you had brought out your tears as well. What could you say, you were an emotional person?

Caitlin, the most sensible out of you, handed you napkins which you gratefully accepted. “Thank you. God, I didn’t expect to _feel_ _so much_.”

“Me neither,” Iris added, blowing her nose furiously. “I’m glad it’s just the three of us here, I’m a mess.”

You stood up, freeing yourself from the shackles which were Iris’ arms. Picking up some trash from the table, you headed out to the kitchen. On the way, you ruffled Iris’ hair gently. “You know Cisco would be crying just as much if he was here right now, though. But he wouldn’t admit it.”

Heading back into your living room, you put the containers of ice-cream that they’d brought down on the table. Caitlin picked hers up enthusiastically, as if she’d been waiting the entire evening for this. Honestly, you kind of had as well. There was a local ice-cream store that sold differently themed ice-cream, and they’d recently started selling one named after your superhero alias. It was chocolate-flavored with swirls of caramel and pieces of salty pretzels in it, and you’d been super excited to try it ever since you heard of it.

“You know,” Iris began, picking up her container with her sweater drawn down over her hand. “I would’ve made a Killer Frost joke about Caitlin, but I think it’d probably be more suitable to make a joke about [name]. Or, should I say Miss Captain Cold?”

You groaned. It had been a while since the topic of Leonard Snart had been brought up, and you had been glad for it, but it seemed you’d now run out of luck. Looking at Caitlin with a pleading look, you hoped that she would change the subject for your sake. She didn’t.

“Yeah, [name]. How’s it going with Mr. Cold? Been on any romantic dates recently?” Apparently, she enjoyed teasing you just as much as Iris did.

With a sigh, you replied. “Nope, Cait. Haven’t even seen him for like… over a month at least. So, no romantic dates, not that we’ve been on any before that either.”

“Really?” She looked at you incredulously. “What was that Studio Ghibli date then, huh?”

_Shit_. You didn’t even know that yourself.

“And what happened the last time you two met?” Iris added, smirking at you.

“Nothing!” You were quick to defend yourself. “That day was nothing, and nothing happened the last time we met at all!”

“Mhm?” It was obvious they didn’t believe you. You could see why, seeing as your voice had gone up way too high, and you felt yourself blushing.

“Alright, fine. But don’t tell anyone else, okay?” They nodded, leaning in to hear what you were about to reveal to them. “I don’t actually know what that day was. It was just… nice, I guess? I felt comfortable with him, and I enjoyed his company. Then I didn’t see him until a couple of weeks ago, when he visited the shop… And well, we talked, and we had the usual banter, and then he hugged me from behind while we looked at the rain outside and he almost kissed my neck.”

You’d said the last sentences in a rapid speed, but the others had still heard. “He _what_?” they squealed in unison.

“He like… God, it feels weird to say it- anyways, he basically held me, arms around my waist, and trailed his nose down my neck. Hey, stop looking at me like that!”

“Awww,” Iris cooed, “look at you, you’re blushing! They grow up so fast! Our little baby!”

She was interrupted by you throwing your pillow at her, laughing her ass off. “Shut up, this was why I didn’t want to tell you!”

“You didn’t want to tell us?” Caitlin asked, suddenly serious. “Really? Why not? You know that we’re here for you no matter what, right?”

You nodded, sighing. “Yeah, of course I do. It’s just that he’s… well he’s _Leonard Snart_. He’s a criminal, for god’s sake! I shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy like that, I know… I guess I was just scared for what you’d say when you found out? Like, you’d tell me how bad of an idea it is, and that I am out of my mind for even thinking about it.”

“Well, you might be out of your mind, but we don’t judge you, sweetie.” Caitlin put a soft hand on your knee, looking you in the eye. “You’re smart enough to know what’s good and what’s bad for yourself, we can’t be the judges of that. And, it’s obvious you’ve been thinking about this a lot, has it been troubling you that much, really?”

“Unfortunately, it has. It’s so confusing. I don’t know what he feels, or why he’s doing this – being kind, and sweet, and treating me like this. What does he get out of it? Is he just trying to woo me so that he can get away with crime, or does he actually _feel_ something for me? My brain feels all mushy when I think about it…”

Nodding at your words, Iris then asked the one question you’d desperately wanted to avoid. “And how do you feel for him?”

“Honestly?” You rubbed your eyes, taking a spoonful of ice-cream. “I don’t know. I guess I like him. Like _really_ really like him. But at the same time, I’m absolutely terrified, because what if he’s just using me? Or, what if he doesn’t feel the same way? It’s just so- “you made a guttural sound, throwing your hands in the air.

After a moment of silence, and you worrying about if you should’ve even told them, Caitlin speaks up again. “I’m grateful you told us, [name]. We don’t want you going around feeling like you can’t tell us what you’re feeling, so I’m really grateful. And, I honestly doubt he doesn’t feel the same way. You guys have had ‘the banter’ for way too long to now act upon it.”

_What?_

“Yeah,” Iris agreed, nodding excitedly. “You two have literally been flirting with each other for as long as I can remember, and don’t say it’s not true, because we all know it is. The tension has been there, and like Cait said, it’s been waiting to happen.”

“I, well, uh. I mean, I _do_ see what you’re implying. It’s just that I definitely haven’t thought of it that way. Like, whatsoever.”

“You at least agree, so that’s that! Anyways, you said he visited you at the shop?” Iris clapped her hands together, still eager to hear more.

With a nod, you told them about the night he stopped by the bookstore, scaring you half to death. “… and then his phone rang, and he had to leave.”

The ice-cream had almost melted completely, and you were now basically slurping it up, like a cold, sweet, soup. Talking about the shop made your heart ache, and reminiscing over your time there even more so. So, not wanting to dwell upon this subject any further, you suggested putting on the second movie on the to-watch list the three of you had compiled earlier – a comedy, to ease the mood a little. To your relief, they didn’t fight back, understanding your discomfort, and so you started the movie.

About halfway through, your eyelids were starting to grow heavy. The movie wasn’t as entertaining as you’d hoped it would be, though the others seemed to enjoy it. _A tiny nap won’t do any harm_ , you thought, and allowed yourself to sink deeper into the armchair you now resided in. However, just as your eyes finally close, you were awoken by the sound of everyone’s phones going off. The sound made your body freeze – it was the meta alarm Cisco had installed, and it meant you had to get down to STAR Labs as fast as possible.

“Fuck,” you let out, as the three of you scrambled up from your comfortable seats. It didn’t take long for you to leave, only bringing the essentials. Your costume and mask were already there, so you didn’t bother changing out of your home-outfit. Without saying almost anything to each other, you were out of your apartment in less than a minute.

“I drive,” Caitlin said instinctively as you made your way towards the parking lot. You didn’t argue, and called shotgun.

The ride to STAR Labs never seemed to take as long as when there was an important mission to get to, and that night wasn’t an exception. You almost got caught in traffic once but avoided it by taking a (possibly illegal) shortcut. Caitlin’s parking almost gave you whiplash, but you’d at least made it there in time. Rushing down the corridors, your heart in your throat, your mind raced with thoughts about what might have happened. There hadn’t been any obvious commotion as far as you’d seen, but the call meant it was an urgent matter.

Stopping in the doorway, it felt like your heart stopped. Because, standing there next to a worried-looking Barry was Leonard Snart – as devilishly handsome as ever.

With a lopsided smile, he spoke directly to you. “Hey there, sunshine. Thought you’d never show.”

* * *

The meta – which Cisco had yet to name – had targeted an orphanage downtown. Taking hostages, he had given the police forces an ultimatum. You didn’t exactly understand it, but Cisco and Caitlin’s voices in your ears let you know that at least they did. You, Barry, and Leonard, had rushed to the scene while the others tried to figure out a decent plan. Coming there, however, your plans changed almost right away. Just as police entered the building, the meta fled. Barry had already headed inside to aid the hostages, leaving you and Snart outside. This meant the two of you were the only ones noticing the escape, and so you – naturally – decided to follow the man.

He zigzagged the streets, heading down narrow alleys and dimly lit paths, to avoid being seen or caught, but it didn’t help him. You were on his tail the whole time, adrenaline flowing through your veins and mind racing. When the man finally slowed down, thinking he was alone, you braced yourself, quickly throwing a look Leonard’s way.

“Execute the plan,” he whispered, low enough that you thought you imagined it. With a sharp nod, you stepped out of the shadows, making your presence known to the meta. He was surprised, at first, but as you strode towards him, his expression changed. Your guts dropped at his now crazed look, grin sharp and eyes glowing.

“Well,” he simply stated, “guess I should’ve seen that coming. What are you going to do now, little hero? The flash not with you? You’re all alone? What a pity, this’ll be over too soon.”

As Snart cleared his throat, sauntering over to where you’d stopped, the meta froze. “Actually, she’s not exactly alone. You see, me and little miss hero over here might not be on the same side of the law, but every once in a while, we gotta team up to take down people like you – unnecessarily evil people with bad plans. Now, let’s get this over with. We’ve got a lovely little cell waiting for you. If you come freely you might even get a television, wow, right?”

The meta simply snarled, chuckling slightly. “You know what? This _is_ a setback, but who cares? I’ll send you both home in pieces.”

With that, chaos erupted. The alley you’d ended up in literally exploded with sound, and you crouched to the ground covering your ears at the noise. It felt like your eardrums had shattered, and when you looked up, you saw the man still standing in his spot – but now his hands were raised, and there was a smug look on his face you just couldn’t wait to wipe off. The most macabre thing however wasn’t the sound, it was the result of it. Hanging mid-air, as if stopped by an unseen force, were thousands of glass-shards. With one last smirk, the man flicked a wrist, and glass was coming your way.

Panicking, you froze for a second too long, and managed to narrowly avoid being hit by the cluster of razor-sharp pieces. You winced, however, as some of them grazed your arm, cutting open your suit. You didn’t have time to inspect the wound, as a new attack followed merely seconds after the first. This time you had better control, managing to slip away and duck in time. Leonard, however, wasn’t as lucky as you. His wince told you he’d been hit, but the shards were too small for you to wee where. You moved, drawing the meta’s attention once again, to give Leonard time to assess.

The fight was almost impossible. The meta’s powers didn’t allow you to get close enough to land any blows, and not even Snart’s cold gun could reach him – leaving you at a great disadvantage. You only hope was tiring him, or waiting for Barry to come to the rescue. You’d just heard Cisco give him the coordinates of the alleyway, so you assumed he would be on his way there soon. At least you hoped so, because you weren’t sure you could take this guy down on your own. It was a feeling you hated, uselessness, and you tried desperately to push it back, saving it for when you got home and cried yourself to sleep in exhaustion.

The last couple attacks had been close calls, but you’d managed to either slip away or phase through the shards in time. Leonard had come closer to you – or had you come closer to him? – and the two of you were now standing side by side. It felt empowering, him having your back. Had someone told you from a few months ago that you’d be fighting side by side with _Captain Cold_ , trusting him, you would’ve laughed at them. Now, however, you were grateful that he was there. Not that you’d tell him that, that’d be embarrassing.

The meta had retreated the shards, and you were feeling hope stir in your chest – perhaps you’d tired him out already? But no, you hadn’t. The extra seconds between attacks wasn’t him getting tired, it was him preparing for a final blow. The shards had formed one big cluster now, and before you knew it, he’d sent them directly towards you, in a greater speed than any of his former attacks. Leonard grabbed you instinctively, shielding you with his body as the glass came at you, trying to protect you. The second you understood what he was doing, you pushed him out of the way, not-so-gracefully phasing through the hazardous shards.

The second you regained a stable, physical, form, Barry came to the rescue. He eyed you for a second, making sure you were alright (or at least alive), before chasing after the once again escaping meta. “Stay here.”

You knew it wouldn’t be too hard of a fight for him, so you let him leave without complaints. Instead, you turned towards Snart, ready to interrogate him about what had just happened. When you saw his slouched form, however, your heart felt like it stopped. He was holding onto his side, blood staining his fingers. In a blink, without thinking, you were at his side. “Leonard?”

He coughed, yet still managed to send a strained smirk your way. “I’m alright, doll. It’s just a scratch. Look- there’s not even that much blood.”

“Sit down,” you ordered him, pushing him softly backwards so that he backed into the brick wall behind him. “Let me have a look.”

Obeying you without the slightest hesitation, he slid down the wall, and you followed him down, crouching in front of him. The proximity of his face would’ve had a much bigger effect on you had he not appeared to be in pain, as you could practically feel the puffs of breath he let out on your face. His hands were still on his side, where you supposed the largest injury must be, so you placed yours over them, asking for permission. His grip eased, and you pushed his shirt up, moving so that you had better access to the wounded area.

What you saw made a lump form in your throat. The wound didn’t seem to be deep, and he had been right – there wasn’t that much blood – but the affected area was still large. Shards of glass were sticking out from his flesh, and you suspected there were more fine pieces deeper inside as well, with how he reacted when you touched the surrounding skin.

“Fuck”, you breathed, trying to think.

“I’ve had worse.” He said, obviously trying to lighten the mood. The serious look you sent him made him go quiet, however, and he retreated to simply looking at you. “Sorry, by the way. I forgot you could do… that.”

Patting your belt down, you looked for anything that could help you. With how much time Cisco spent upgrading your suit, you felt there had to be at least something of use in this kind of situation. Pressing your earpiece, you contacted the man in question. “Cisco, Snart’s got glass stuck in him. What can I do for him until one of you comes to get us?”

The voice answering sounded worried, yet still professional. “Big or small shards?”

“Small, and I think some of them have pushed pretty far in.” You eyed Snart as you broke the news, and he looked positively green.

“Ah,” Cisco said. “Well, there should be some – uh – gel, no actually, wait, shit, I haven’t added that yet. Sorry, I don’t actually know if there’s much you can do. Keep him company? Iris is leaving in a second, she’s got your coordinates. It’ll be alright, you hear me – just wait.”

You sighed, pursing you lips, and turned to face Snart again. “We’ll just have to wait for Iris to get here. Are you alright? Can I do something to help you?”

“Always the hero,” he coughed, but shook his hand in dismissal as you frowned. “Talk with me. It’s been a while since we last… talked. I’ve missed… talking with you.”

Rolling your eyes, you smiled at him. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”

“Guess I’ll have to do better then. How have you been lately, though? I heard about your store.”

_Ah_. It still hurt to think about, even in this situation. You noticed a scratch on the side of his face and placed your hand on his cheek, guiding it so that you could view it better. “I take it you’ve seen the news then.”

“I hadn’t-“ he winced, he was obviously in pain, but tried his best to hide it, “-but now I have. It was quite a shocker to see _that_ when stopping by to see you.”

“You came to see me?” It was a thought that sent shivers down your spine.

He shrugged, immediately regretting it. Remembering your hand was still on his cheek, and that you were now looking into his eyes, you let your hand fall. Before you had completely retread it, he grabbed it softly, holding it with both of his. “Of course. Where else would I get my unfortunately-not-exactly-daily dose of bickering mixed with intelligent conversations and flirting?”

You ducked your head, and almost wanted to pull your hand back, but he was drawing small circles on it, and combined with his words, it was making your brain short-circuit. “Fuck off,” you said, the words holding an intense warmth and softness in them. He simply smiled, mirroring your expression.

“Back to the topic,” he said, trying to keep the conversation going, most likely to keep his mind off of his injuries. “The store; what are you going to do with it now?”

Pursing your lips, your expression turned stern once again. “It’ll work out. It’s going to take some time, but I know it’ll all work out in the end. I’ve got some money saved up, and then there’s the insurance money as well. It’ll work out.”

“Good. To be completely honest my first thought was to rob a place and leave the money on your doorstep for the store, but I figured you wouldn’t have liked that.” He seemed almost bashful, an expression you’d never seen him sport before, and even though the confession was slightly bizarre it made you smile.

“You were right, I definitely wouldn’t have liked it. Nice sentiment, though, I appreciate it.”

Before either of you could say anything else, a car appeared, parking only a few feet away from you with a screech. Iris opened the door and hopped out, only to freeze in her spot at the sight of you two. A proud smirk appeared on her face, which made you blush. You didn’t want to know what you looked like, sitting on your knees in front of Snart, basically between his legs, as he had his back against the wall, your hands intertwined and bodies close.

“Alright, lovebirds,” she began, “let’s get you back to the lab. [name], assessment of injuries?”

You stood up, legs aching, and helped Snart up as well, arms supporting him. “Nothing Cait can’t handle. He’ll probably have to lie down in the car, help me get him in there will you?”

After a few minutes, he was lying on his uninjured side in the backseat, head on the driver side. You climbed into the passenger seat in the front as Iris started up the car. Turning back to look at Snart, wanting to make sure he was alright, you were struck with the memory of the time he’d helped you during a fight, and you had laid in the backseat of the same car, in a similar position, as Cisco had speeded towards the lab.

“You’re staring”, he commented, even though his eyes were closed.

With a slight chuckle, you rolled your eyes. “You were amazing today; I was glad to have you there.”

“Thank you.” He was silent for a few seconds, and you almost turned back around before you heard him mutter something else. “And… thank you. For, you know, the help.”

You grinned widely at him, a warmth spreading in your chest, roaring fiercely, before turning around, sticking your tongue out to Iris’ teasing face and focusing your eyes on the road. “Only for you.”


End file.
